


Sunday Afternoon

by sffan



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Light BDSM, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 10:34:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7680985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sffan/pseuds/sffan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Daniel and a couch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is from a previous archive, written between 2002 and 2008. No additional changes or edits have been made since it’s original posting date and none will be. 
> 
> Original note: This was supposed to be a sweet little story and then the kinkbunny came to visit. My muse is easily swayed.

It’s a quiet Sunday afternoon and we’re sharing the couch, I’m sitting at one end, watching the game, Daniel’s at the other, back resting against the armrest, his bare feet curled around my thigh, taking notes on the text he’s reading.

Except I’m not watching the game, the game I’ve been looking forward to watching all week, the game I thought I’d miss because our last mission went to hell in a hand basket – no, not me. Instead, I’m watching Daniel. I’m watching Daniel fellate a pencil and it’s driving me fucking nutso. As Daniel nibbles on the end of his pencil, his perfectly arched brows pulled down in a frown of concentration, he wiggles his toes against my leg.

"Goddammit, Daniel!" I exclaim, "I’m trying to watch the game here."

Startled by the words and the volume, Daniel’s head jerks up and he peers in confusion over the rims of his glasses. "I’m not stopping you," Daniel says in a quiet, reasonable voice, gesturing at the television with the infernal pencil.

"Then STOP it," I bitch, crossing my arms.

Daniel frowns at me and says, "Stop what? I’m just sitting here reading quietly." And then he taps his lips with that fucking pencil.

"That!" I growl, shifting fast, sliding between his legs and leaning forward to grab the pencil and toss it over his shoulder.

Daniel looks up at me, his eyes twinkling. "Jealous of a … PENCIL? That’s ridiculous, even for you, Jack."

I frown, grab him by the thighs and yank him down the couch. I divest him of book, notepad, and glasses in quick order as he just lies there and smirks at me. "Not jealous, envious," I state before leaning in and licking his lower lip.

Daniel wraps his legs around my hips and arches up into me. "Pencil envy?" He asks, eyebrow quirked.

"I am so going to get you for that," I say before attacking his soft, lush mouth with my own, cutting off his taunt of ‘Promises, promises’ mid-word. Without looking, I hit the off button on the remote, turning off the game. I curl my tongue around Daniel’s and pull it into my mouth so that I can suck on it. Moaning softly, Daniel wraps his hand around the back of my head and writhes sinuously under me.

Groaning, I start tugging at his shirt, pulling it out of his pants and shoving it up his chest. Our mouths break contact just long enough for me to pull it off over his head and throw it on the floor. I run my hands over his smooth skin, loving the way his muscles twitch against my fingers. I rub roughly at his nipples with my thumbs and Daniel’s back comes right up off the couch as he arches upward. I nip at his lips and dig my thumbs in, just a little firmer, and Daniel’s hips buck against mine. I love how incredibly responsive to touch Daniel is; I’m addicted to the way he moves and the sounds he makes when I run my hands over his skin, so I do it every damn chance I get.

"Too many clothes," he murmurs and starts tugging at my shirt. I whole-heartedly agree and soon the both of us are a tangle of arms and legs as we push and shove the rest of our clothing onto the floor. He reaches up and grabs me by my dog tags and drags my head down into a long, steamy kiss that melts my spine and makes my dick throb.

Daniel presses something into the palm of my hand and I glance at it out of the corner of my eye, confirming my suspicions – it’s one of those small, discreet, brightly-coloured, carry-it-anywhere-with-you packets of lube. He must have had it in his pocket the whole time.

"You bastard," I growl at him. "You planned this whole thing didn’t you?"

"Of course I did, Jack. I’ll be damned if I’m going to spend the last day off before a three week mission translating texts while you watch a stupid hockey game. Now stop your bitching and *fuck* me already." Daniel emphasizes his point by grabbing my ass and grinding into me.

"Sneaky little shit," I comment while opening the packet.

"Blah, blah, blah, you can complain later. Less talk, more do." The last word goes up about two registers as I rub my fingers across his opening without bothering to warm the lube up first.

"Asshole."

"Why yes, Dr. Jackson, astute observation. This is, in fact, your asshole." Daniel’s reply to my smartass comment is lost in a loud gasp as I push two fingers into him. I press in deep and find his prostate and give it a light stroke. Daniel’s head goes back and a light shudder goes through him. I press more firmly and give the "happy button" a solid rub. Daniel lets out a loud moan and his hips jerk hard. With one last stroke that leaves him gasping, I pull my fingers out and run my hands up and down his thighs. Daniel spreads his legs and whispers, "Please, Jack, more."

God, I love seeing him like this. Splayed out, wanting me, cock hard and arching up towards his stomach, eyes glazed with pleasure, mouth open, soft pants of air spilling from those gorgeous lips. I kiss and lick my way down his chest. With slow, gentle swipes of my tongue I tease his nipples into sharp points, rolling one gently between my fingers, I take the other between my teeth and bite down – hard. Daniel cries out with pleasure and his whole body shudders under mine. It’s taken me a long time to get used to this – to get used to the fact that Daniel likes a little pain with his pleasure – and that it’s okay that I really, really get off on it.

I have to be really careful not to leave marks. One of these days I’m sure I’ll lose control and just do it, but not today. As I lave the abused nipple with my tongue, I give the other one a vicious twist. Daniel’s cock jerks against me and I can feel the pre-come slicking up the head. Daniel gasps loudly and rocks upward.

I grin evilly at him and start to nip and lick and tease my way around his chest and down, alternating randomly so that he doesn’t know what’s coming next – a gentle kiss or a sharp bite. He thrashes under me, moaning nearly non-stop as I continue to work my way downward. I expertly avoid his cock, licking up the pre-come that’s pooled on his flat stomach and then nibble at his navel.

"Now, Jack. Do it. Fuck me," he orders breathlessly. I look up into cobalt eyes blazing with lust and feel my heart stutter. God, he’s beautiful. It makes him crazy when I tell him shit like that, so I try to keep it to myself. He bucks his hips up and moans, "Jaaaack."

I take the hint. I slick myself up with the remaining lube and with one sharp push, thrust deep into Daniel. Without giving him a chance to catch his breath, I start to hammer into his body. He braces himself against the armrest with one arm and wraps his other hand around my bicep. Sliding his long legs higher up my rib cage, he rocks his hips upward into every thrust.

I lean down and kiss him, my dog tags pooling on his chest. He slides his hand into my hair for a moment and holds me there, deepening the kiss until the need for air becomes too much. We work each other hard, our bodies slapping together, sweat slicking up our skin, our moans and gasps blending as I try to fuck Daniel through the couch. My knees are already hating me, but I don’t give a shit; a little pain is worth seeing Daniel lose it like this. And he is losing it big-time. He’s arching and twisting under me, trying to pull me deeper with every stroke. He’s starting to babble in at least half a dozen languages, and in every one of them he’s ordering me to fuck him harder.

I angle my thrusts and Daniel’s moans take on a sharper tone as I begin to pound against his prostate. His body starts to shudder and twitch and his fingers dig tight into my arm. The shudders get more and more violent and Daniel’s gasping for air when suddenly his eyes snap open in shock, his hips jerk upward and the space between us is filled with warm wetness as he comes without a hand on him.

His muscles clamp down hard on my cock, dragging my orgasm from me. I groan out Daniel’s name and collapse onto his chest, trying to catch my breath. We lay like that until my bones re-solidify and then I pull out and we reposition ourselves so that we’re cuddled together on the couch like a couple of puppies. I grab the throw off the back of the couch and wrap it around us as our sweat begins to cool. I don’t want Daniel to catch a chill. He gets cold easily.

I stroke his damp skin and pull him as close to me as I can and kiss his swollen lips as our hearts slow down to something approaching normal. We **should** clean up, but I don’t think either of us will be up to walking for a good long while yet.

"Well," I say, when I regain the power of speech, "that was definitely better than a hockey game."

"Yeahsureyoubetcha," Daniel says sleepily, with a grin.

I kiss him and join him in our second favourite activity – the Sunday afternoon nap.


End file.
